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Saturday, February 26, 2011

I have mentioned before that I think the Post Office hates me. (The Blogger app won't let me hyperlink so you can just click my USPS tag.) Well now it is confirmed.

There was no mail on Thursday for any of the apartments. I was expecting my Netflix, but I couldn't call the post office, can't have them having them hate me more.

Friday: no mail again for anyone. There is now three Netflix movies over due. Netflix is always very punctual. I called the post office and the guy said that the carrier hadn't said anything about not delivering mail, so we must not have had any mail. Bloody liar. But what do you do?

Saturday: No fucking mail in anyone's box. Now we must have gotten at least the weekly fliers. So I call the PO again and the guy says again that the carrier didn't say anything, but when I mentioned the fliers, he went and looked. Guess what? There was a huge pile of mail for us on the carriers desk without any explanation to why it wasn't delivered. So I ran over there and got my movies and fliers.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

I'm not sure why people even bother to help me. I'm absolutely impossible. It's why most of the time I don't talk at all. I hate listening to myself.

I say "I was looking at these apartments that are pretty cool." Other person "yeah? You're looking to move?" I say "no."

How do you work with someone who contradicts everything they say? "I really want to travel to Athens this summer." Other person "oh, yeah? When are you going?" Me: "Fuck it. I'm not going."

It's like I think of something, then when I put two seconds of thought into it I realize how stupid it is. How hard it is. How that's not what I want to do at all. It all really comes back to my bed. All I want to do is lie in bed. Until I die, which will also be in my bed. If the plans do not include me lying in bed, I don't want to do it.

My other major problem is Ryder is my traveling/everything companion. But he is not an adult. And adults are completely unreliable. The only one I can depend on is me, and that gets lonely...

Thursday, February 17, 2011

There is no black cloud, or dark hole. This time the darkness is inside me and I can feel it coursing through my veins all day long. It's been bad. The last time it was this bad I was leaving my abusive husband. I want to release the darkness but that is dangerous, so I'm doing what I can. They have upped my meds, but it doesn't seem to be working. Everyday is a struggle. Every activity is a struggle. I havent really told anyone, because no one likes a whiner. But here it is. And I am exhausted from all this pain. I'll update when I can.

Friday, February 11, 2011

As I sat on the bench, waiting for my train, the air was incredibly frigid. I sat making myself as small as possible in order to retain what little body heat I had. The sun, an unexpected comrade, allowed me to share in her rays. She was not powerful enough to warm the air, so set her sights on smaller recipients. As her warm rays hit my heavily clad body, I took advantage of each one, drawing out all the heat that it contained. She unselfishly gave me what little heat she could, on such a winter's day. As I concentrated on her warmth, I realized that there was no body between me and her. Between me and the celestial body stood only a few layers of clothing. It made me feel important, as such a large star was willing to give such a small being warmth when I had nothing to give in return. As my train approached, I promised to sit on the east side of the train in order to continue our loving embrace.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

I have just seen a new level of inconsiderate and disrespectful behavior that I think I've seen in recent years. Maybe I'm over reacting but I'm just stunned.

Our train was called and everyone began to push fellow commuters for THE best seat. A woman in front of me, walks by the Dunkin Donuts in the station. She then places her empty coffee cup on top of one of their brewers. And walks away. Surely she must have some repertoire with the D & D employees, right? Not an employee in sight. Apparently she thinks that they are lowly servants that just pick up after her fucking ass.

No, they are probably not the pillars of their community, but maybe they are. They are just working their job, just like me, trying to feed their families. It is surely not a glamorous job, but, shit, you gotta do what you gotta do. You do not deserve to be disrespected by people who believe they are better than you.

I may add that there are a half dozen trash cans between Dunkies and the train.

A related incident that astounded me was in a shopping lot. I was putting R in his seat and our carriage was right behind me filled with our groceries. A family walked by and one of the adults put their coffee cup on my carriage. WTF? So this person is considerate enough to not throw it on the ground, but doesn't feel like they should have to go out of their way to find a can. So, now, I look like the asshole who leaves their trash in the carriages. Because what am I supposed to do with it? I can't just leave R in his seat while I run around looking for a can. Why couldn't they at least put it in an empty cart? Not that I condone that either.

These people have probably never even thought about their behavior nearly as long as it has taken me to write this. Hopefully someone somewhere calls them out on it. Maybe they will consciously become aware of their behavior and stop being disrespectful. Or maybe they will just tell them to fuck off.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Things have been tough around here, but I got my meds upped so maybe things will get better.

I have survived a lot. I have survived lies, drugs, abuse, parenting, bankruptcy, eviction, repossession, divorce, and more court appearances any one person should have to handle. But sometimes I feel like that is enough. I don't have the strength to go any farther. I don't have the courage.

Sometimes when I watch a movie or read a book where the protagonist has or is enduring some serious shit, I don't understand why they don't kill them selves. I just watched Rachel Getting Married and it was a great flick, but if I killed my little brother and didn't feel wanted by my family, I think suicide would be a viable option.

Why do I think this? I know when this enters my mind that it is fucked up. What does it say about me? Probably nothing good.

I should put a little meter on my side bar over there keeping track of how shitty I sound. As someone reads a post it goes up and down.

Okay that's stupid. I may edit. But stream of conscience is my shtick. I digress.

People don't commit suicide in movies. Not successfully anyways. Maybe its a bad story ending. Maybe no one wants to see someone survive for 100 minutes to just swallow a bunch of pills. I don't know. What do I know anyways?